Nothingness
by Yokokitsu
Summary: Kisame and Itachi have tracked the Kyuubi into Northern country. Unfortunately, Sasuke has as well. Will Kisame let Itachi settle this final battle, or will he be forced to protect this new dynamic in their partnership? Rated for later chapters. KisaIta
1. Prologue

Disclamer: I don't own the franchise or the characters. Kishimoto is the lucky person...

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Nothingness

Prologue

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"What happens when we die, do you think?" Black eyes observed a beetle slowly making its way through small cracks in the hotel's foundation. It scuttled along the wooden floorboards before disappearing through a hole. 

"Itachi-san, that's not at all like you," The shark-nin looked up from his makeshift stove. "What brought this on?

The rice sizzled happily in the pan. Lately Kisame had been feeling more domestic. At just over six feet, the ninja was intimidating, yet seemed almost gentle hunched over the cooking food.

He was growing increasingly aware of the fewer risks he took, and the more content he was with life's simpler things. He hummed as he prepared their dinner; maybe it was time to retire from the Akatsuki.

"I just need to know. It's been tugging at my mind…"

Conversely, Itachi Uchiha was of a slight build, very skinny, yet still suggesting a sort of power. At only 21, he was the youngest member of the group, excluding Tobi. To Kisame, he was still only a boy. It seemed only natural that someone his age would be curious about the afterlife.

Kisame sighed: dealing with youngsters made him feel his age. "No one really knows, Itachi-san. Hidan says all nonbelievers rot in a dark pit of Hell. Orochimaru believed that in heaven there are 70 virgins. Kakuzu doesn't believe in a god: it's all up for debate."

Here he stopped and chuckled a bit. The two immortals were the only men older than himself, and they fought as though they had been married for even longer. They had tried to keep that aspect of their partnership a secret… until they had been outed by a hapless Tobi.

"Kisame?"

The smell of burnt rice filled the room. "Ah, shit!" It would take another 20 minutes to make a new batch. "I'm sorry Itachi-san."

The boy gave a small, coy smile. "It's okay – I don't mind." His eyes roved over the cottage's floor again. "But you didn't answer my question. What do _you_ think happens when we, um, pass away?"

Really, this whole conversation was completely avant-garde.

The mist-nin began to hum another tune. "I'm not taking any stance on it. Religion and the afterlife is not something I'm qualified to discuss. But you have time, Itachi-san. I wouldn't worry about what comes next."

They sat in silence for a short while, the only sound the scratching of Kisame's cookware.

"I wasn't concerned with myself," came the soft reply. "I just wanted to know what I condemned my clan to."

Kisame's heart fluttered when he met those eyes across the room. Dark, soulful and tired: so very tired.

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A/N: Well, here we are! I'm really proud of this fic, and I've already completed it. Typing it up from rough draft to final is gonna be a pain, tho. The story's really long, as this does _not_ suggest, but I hope that I'll get quite a few reviews. That is, if you like, and have the time - please do leave ConCrit:p 


	2. Lover's Waltz

Disclaimer: I don't own it. Naruto and all its characters are the express property of Masashi Kishimoto. (I sound like I have a stick shoved up my ass; I'm as uptight as Sasuke-kun!) XD

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**Nothingness  
**Chpt. 1 - Lover's Waltz

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The next morning, Kisame woke before his partner. This was a rare occasion, and he decided to let the other sleep as long as he needed. After all, tracking the Kyuubi was hard work. They had to keep constant tabs on the boy, and his master Jiraiya insisted on a nomadic lifestyle.

It seemed in keeping with the trend of lagging energy Itachi appeared to be experiencing, as well. Lately, the Uchiha had been slow to rise and early to rest; almost as though his body knew something his mind did not.

Could it be that an avenging angel dogged their steps?

Dismissing the notion, Kisame stood and shouldered on the standard-issue cloak of the Akatsuki. His back and other joints cracked as he stretched, and he began to regret his choice to sleep on the floor. It wouldn't have been too much to ask for the bed – his seniority would have afforded him at least that.

Mother Nature had seen fit to bless them with snow, and the fresh powder blew in the door as the shark-nin slid it open. It crunched beneath his feet as he made his way to the small stockpile of wood they'd gathered before.

He cursed Leader's frugality for each breath of chilly morning air that wound its freezing fingers up his back. The sparse, black cloth was hardly even thick enough to retain his body heat!

It wasn't until he got back inside that Kisame realized that the thin wool had probably been the money-hoarding Kakuzu's idea. Making that man the organization's treasurer had certainly been the most practical decision, but now every member would need to suffer.

This was all getting to be far too much for a tired old man like himself.

In truth, at 37, Kisame was far from over the hill. Years of killing had made his soul weary, but who would be untouched by the carnage he had seen? His wit was still more than sharp enough, and he was in the best physical shape of his life.

Still, he couldn't help but feel that the time to retire was approaching. Itachi's recent addition to his one-man team was probably Pein's last ditch effort to breathe life into an old dog. Kisame was not blind.

What worried him was Akatsuki's treatment of members after they had served their purpose. Anyone too old to continue on was killed to preserve their secrets; at this rate, he himself had only a few years left.

But what better way was there to die: in combat?

Following this train of thought, Kisame had returned inside and was now placing firewood, and the odd twig into the cooking pit. Each small piece of fuel fed the flames, keeping this small, abandoned cottage warm. Outside, his breaths had come in crystalline puffs, but within, his internal thermostat knew that the temperature was straddling 'acceptable.'

The ninja's ability to survive, even sleep, in such hostile conditions was truly astounding. It bordered on the superhuman.

Yesterday's fire had wilted down to a few black coals, and the shark-nin had had to stoke it back to life. This meant that, inside, it must have fallen under freezing. He inspected the walls, and, sure enough, Kisame discovered a few patches of ice near the window frames. This could mean nothing, and yet…

Worried, he stood swiftly and strode towards into the other room. This was asinine: Itachi-san was completely capable of fending for himself!

But in the same way that he could not stop the rising panic, neither could Kisame deny the relief he felt when the red, embroidered clouds on the bed stirred. He was helpless against the waves of assurance that claimed his muscles, bones, and very mind at the knowledge that, beneath the red and black cloth, his partner slept comfortably.

Inching closer, he noticed that the rhythmic rise and fall was Itachi's steady breathing. His face betrayed him; his emotions were scrawled clearly in his expressions. This was a serious taboo in the shinobi's world, but was that indecision? Anxiety? Longing..?

Suddenly embarrassed, Kisame made his way back, where the oil in the pan was crackling as happily as the flames licking at it.

Admonishing himself quietly, he took a chunk of venison out of their travel bag. He slowly skinned off slices of the meat, and placed them in said pan. His whispered insults mixed almost pleasantly with its sizzling.

"You idiot! Of course he's okay. What did you think would happen – a minor frostbite?"

But the more he thought about it, the more anxious Kisame became. This was their first time traveling anywhere up north, and neither knew the other's limits. Belonging to the Village Hidden in the Mist, _he _was well adapted to the cold, but a ninja from Konoha?

In fact, the more he thought about, the more probable the scenario seemed. Why had he been so careless?! He had let the fire go out, and now Itachi was freezing in the other room.

He stood up decidedly and made his way back down the hallway, only to stop a few feet from the bedroom door. It felt warm enough here in the hallway – it couldn't possibly be any colder where his partner lay.

Kisame backtracked, again halting a small ways away from his destination. Heat now wouldn't help; it could already be too late.

He repeated this dance a three more times, waltzing from the kitchen to the bedroom at the end of the hall. Going, he moved in a panicked frenzy, returning, he berated himself for lack of faith. Each instance, he was kept from checking in, and prevented from sitting back down.

The last time, the shark-nin resolved to check on Itachi. Gathering up all the nerve he had left (it would not bode well for him to look doubtfully at the other's survival skills), he decided that he would push back the screen door and have a quick once over of the room. That would be that.

Inside, on the tattered mattress, blood-red clouds drifted lazily over a black sky. Each rise and fall created new folds and wrinkles in the cloak draped so carelessly over the form below. Still Itachi slept on, undisturbed.

Kisame wandered back to the food. Hopefully, he could blame his flushed face on the rising heat from the deer bacon.

"Unh, Kisame?" The voice crept from down the hall, colored with exhaustion.

As badly as Kisame wanted to rush to Itachi's side, he meandered back to the master bedroom. He was confused by these outpourings of feeling, but he didn't feel the need to put his partner off with misgivings.

"Were you just in here?" Those same dark eyes from the night before stared out at him from underneath the cloth. "I thought I heard something."

Now the man was just playing with him: as a shinobi, he had definitely known the other had been there. Knowing Itachi, he had probably pretended to sleep, as well. Kisame mentally kicked himself for falling prey to the other's fascination with mind games.

"Yes," he stated sternly. "I thought, maybe, it was too cold in here." If there was a way to save face, Kisame vowed to find it.

The younger of the two pulled a few slender fingers through silken black hair. Propping himself up, he revealed a naked chest – though no skin marbled with goose bumps. "It is a bit chilly, I suppose."

It was fairly obvious that Itachi was lying. It irked him that he could lie so easily to the person that had worked beside him for so many years. Even if it was something as inconsequential as the temperature of the room, it was a lie nonetheless.

At the same time, though, Kisame was struck by how odd it was to see his partner so, seemingly, weak and helpless. This was not the headstrong, powerful Uchiha he knew.

Unconsciously, he slipped a tad closer to the man lying on the bed. Perhaps he was hoping for a better look? Whether it was Itachi's health, or exposed body, Kisame could not say.

Said partner noticed the other's sidling, and motioned towards him. "Come a bit closer, Kisame."

He didn't know why, but he complied. Stepping over the neatly folded shirt and pants on the ground, Kisame moved to obey.

Using the lighting-fast reflexes shinobi were known for, Itachi pulled his partner down onto the bed with him. "You see," he smiled, "you're cold too."

Itachi took advantage of the shark-nin's momentary bewilderment to wrap pale, almost delicate arms around his neck, and slide controlling, yet graceful legs around his waist.

Kisame gasped when his fingers brushed the whitish flesh below him. It was like touching the sun! Apparently there had been no reason to worry after all. Reflexively, his fingers continued to caress smooth skin, and skim over curves and dips in the younger man's body.

He was brought back to reality by a significantly louder moan from his partner; one that dripped with impatience and lust. As much as he enjoyed those sounds, the shark-nin forced himself to stop.

"I-Itachi-san! What are you doing?" he questioned, though he knew he had only himself to blame. His limbs disobeyed his brain and responded zealously. The lithe body of his supposed lover twisted between his legs.

'_This isn't right!' his conscience screamed. 'He's so much younger – basically a boy!'_

The rest of Kisame continued to defy this logic. His mouth joined the rebellion and used lips, tongue and teeth to leave possessive marks. As he trailed over chest, stomach, lower…

'_You mustn't do this!'_ that pesky voice cautioned again. _'He's probably a virgin, on top of everything else!'_

As if picking up on his innermost thoughts, Itachi stirred slightly. "Don't worry: I want this." The other took up a new position, and Kisame's very self virtually hummed with pleasure.

Well, maybe not a virgin.

'_Still! This can't possibly be acceptable—'_

Sensing hesitation, the Uchiha let up his assault on the shark-nin's senses. "We're both grown men – we can make our own decisions." The pitch was commanding, decided. "Sleep with me. Now."

His tone left no room for argument, and Kisame was forced to oblige. Giving in, he removed his final layers of clothing, the only thing separating them from each other. From ecstasy.

If he asked for it, Itachi was going to get it. The way the man looked at him, though. It conveyed desperation, impatience – almost as if he felt that there was not much time left to do this.

Kisame pulled his partner to him like two forbidden lovers in their final throes of passion. In a way, maybe this was appropriate.

The shark-nin's palms roved over expanses of skin, following the path laid down by the mouth that had just recently abated. The smaller man's breaths came in pants and gasps. He cried out headily; the wandering hands were striking hyper-sensitive flesh.

Kisame brought his lips down to silence his partner, letting that same tongue explore every crevice, every space in the other's mouth. The two fought teasingly: both knew that _he_ would be the one to dominate.

However, Itachi pulled the strings. Itachi initiated this shift in their relationship.

Now, his partner was uncovering his mouth, parting lips and promising pleasurable things to come. Kisame let his right hand rest on the other's chin.

"Beautiful…" The way they were laying (also half-sitting) had become uncomfortable, as it addressed none of their needs. Itachi's lips separated, almost begging, and the shark-nin pushed two fingers past the rosy guardians.

"Are you sure? You _still_ want this?"

Itachi swallowed thickly around the digits, and nodded. "Yes, Kisame, I _still_ do."

In spite of himself, Kisame smirked. Itachi responded by smiling gently before screwing his eyes shut tightly. The shark-nin removed his fingers, and let the hand drift lower.

The cry that pierced the soft, gentle dawn startled a few birds from their carefully chosen roosts.

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A/N - Oh my god, yay! I really love this chapter. But you know, I like reviews more... XD Hoping for some more, for this chappie and others to come. 


	3. Out of Lust, and Into Love

Disclaimer: Still not mine. I sooo wish they were, tho.

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**Nothingness  
**Chpt. 2 - Out of Lust, and Into Love

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"Itachi-san, how are you doing?" Sated, yet unable to fight his protective instincts, the mist-nin leaned back on his elbow, his chin resting on his palm. His expression was difficult to read, made too complex by too many emotions.

Idly, he allowed his fingers to trace intricate patterns on the small of his partner's back. "Thank you, by the way."

Even this did not provoke a response, Itachi being too busy doing his best interpretation of a statue. After their love-making, the Uchiha had turned away, no longer facing the man he had just embraced.

"I told you that you would come to regret this," Kisame berated. "Now we've ruined it…" He watched the other man for any sign that this had hit a nerve – nothing.

Giving up, he decided instead to dwell on his surroundings. The sheets were mussed and dirty, but underneath, their combined body heat created a toasty environment. Kisame was not wont to leave this newfound place of calm, and slaked sexual pleasure.

It didn't seem to matter that the paper doors were peeling and the plaster of the walls was flaking away in some places; this abandoned cottage had given both something truly special.

He watched as, outside the window, a few birds came and went among the tree boughs. A large fir had situated itself just to the side of the house's eastern wall, and it blocked the most invasive of the sunlight. The effect was that a few shadows were strewn haphazardly across the bed. This was why the shadows on the cloth had been so pronounced, Itachi's slumbering movements so obvious.

The shark-nin distracted himself from said partner's disdain for conversation by envisioning the way this house would look in a few years. It saddened him that none of it would take place; where he saw a newly painted exterior, nature intended a wind-worn, and forgotten wall.

The sunny and bright kitchen nook would be obscured by thick cobwebs, and the polished hardwoods would be rotted through, the—

"Kisame, didn't you have breakfast ready?" Itachi had shut the other out, effectively disrupting any conversation they might have had, along with Kisame's reverie.

"That's right!" he answered. "Crap, I might have to reheat it."

Slightly irritated at being forced to get up, Kisame pulled himself up. His movements yanked at the cloak sparsely covering them both, and it pulled away from Itachi's midriff. He made no movement to hide his nakedness, and the shark-nin groaned inwardly. This Uchiha was a filthy exhibitionist.

Tiredly, Kisame made his way to the kitchen, yawning multiple times during his trek down the hallway and through the non-existent living room. When he arrived there, and tested the lukewarm food, he decided to bypass the kitchen and collect more wood for the again dying flames.

When he returned inside, armed with a stack of fuel, he yawned yet again and produced a loaf of bread from somewhere within his pack. More for want of something to do, rather than hunger, Kisame began to break it into smaller chunks.

The bread was baked specifically for travel, and was very hard. It would keep for weeks beyond now, but was missing any semblance of flavor. He settled on frying it with a few seasonings he carried with him. Today was a special occasion, after all.

It was easier to think while his hands were moving, so he let the waves of his thoughts buoy him up.

Who was he, that he could take such a young lover?

Kisame sat there, pondering their current situation, until he figured that the meal was warm enough. He assumed they had enough rice left over from last night's dinner to be served with breakfast. There was, but just barely – he had burnt too much of it the night before.

It wasn't that the shark-nin wasn't a good chef, quite the contrary (his food was well known throughout the Akatsuki); it was only that he was a bit forgetful. He was bound to leave some dish or another for too long. But that was unavoidable.

He soon realized that his train of thought had wandered irretrievably and stood to take the other man his food.

As he made his way to the end of the hall, Kisame made sure to avoid the boards he could be sure creaked. The floor was chilly, but even such a strong winter wouldn't deaden the sound. The soft thumps his bare feet made were enough noise.

However, his partner seemed immobile, indifferent; as untouchable as fresh snow. Not because he - or the snow - was so unassailable, but that both were to perfect to be soiled by unworthy contact.

Perhaps he had been searching for some recognition..?

Perhaps all he wanted was some sentiment, or token of gratitude for all the small things…

Perhaps it was those small things that true, lasting relationships were built on.

But this was all too deep and introspective to be brought to life after a simple one night stand. It was difficult for the older man to accept that these could be longstanding feelings bubbling to the surface.

He peered through the crack between the door and frame. Again, his heart seemed to shudder violently at the sight presented for him. Itachi's light frame lay shackled in sleep – his partner dead to the world.

Kisame could, all at once, feel the stirrings of domesticity within himself. It was an addition to the steady stream of air welling from unfathomable pit of his hidden emotions.

It was time to settle down, have whatever semblance of a family he could manage, and spread his heritage on one more generation. It was not that he was more primitive than his fellow man, but that, as he neared mid-age, he felt an almost desperate need to pass on his abilities, his blood.

So why did his heart ache at the prospect of leaving Itachi for procreation?

In the beginning, he had been tried to pass it off as fear; fear of being removed from that eternal spawning ground called the gene pool before he could complete that most basic of instinct. Unfortunately, once he had convinced himself, and come to terms with it, his world had turned itself over on his head.

Itachi_ had_ been good in bed (there could be no doubts about that), but had it been life-changing?! Kisame was being forced to face the possibility that these were preexisting feelings - that he may have fallen out of lust, and into love, with his partner.

Out of the pan, and into the fire, they said.

Quickly, with as much sanity that he could muster, he regained himself. Standing in the hallway, fully exposed, was a tactical blunder, and he_ was _still a reluctant, yet competent member of the Akatsuki.

He went set the tray down onto the floor when he heard the rustle of a particularly thin fabric. Acting completely irrationally, the shark-nin stole away to the threshold's corner. Out of sight, just within earshot.

"Kisame?" His partner's voice, thinner with exasperation than the garment he wore, came from behind the door. "I know you're there. You make more noise than that worthless brother of mine."

At his name, Kisame's heart jumped in his chest, leaping like a frightened rabbit into the long grasses of denial. Finding that it was especially difficult to breathe, he struggled to choke out a response. "Y-yes, I'm here." A rather loud clearing of the throat. "I, um, brought breakfast."

It suddenly seemed childish to think that something as simple as the proffering of food could secure the adoration of a prospective mate. Why not, though? It happened all the time in nature…

It still had not occurred to him that love was, in itself, quite a straight-forward thing: something that lacked the pomp and circumstance of a complicated courtship. Love was love once it began.

"You're usually so practical – why the sudden change of heart?"

The sound of Itachi's voice, dark and rich as the person it belonged to, startled the shark-nin out of his cyclical thoughts. "What do you mean, Itachi-san? I thought this would be fine with you."

"Breakfast in bed? I hardly think that appropriate for people such as ourselves, Kisame. As missing-nin, I think both of us can fix our own meals. I told you last night – we're grown men."

The tone was undeniably steely, and seemed to brush off any attempts at companionship. It warned those close to back away.

Kisame was taken aback, yes, but could muster as much, if not more, contempt than Itachi. "You said a lot of things yesterday." The odd topic of the Uchiha clan's demise sprang instantly to mind.

"I resent what you're implying."

"I meant nothing; apparently, neither did you. And I intend to forget all of it."

There was silence then. He feared that the younger was truly upset, but could do nothing to alleviate the rancor he must have felt.

"I'm sorry."

Kisame balked at the tired, defeated manner in which the man spoke. The words seemed to strain across the distance, reaching desperately for listening ears.

"I don't want to do this right now, I can't."

"Do what, Itachi-san?"

He slipped his fingers between the door and its frame and slid the paper screen along the track. It made a dusty sort of whisper, like secret voices in the morning sun.

"Fight. It's just not worth it."

Kisame strode over to the bed and placed the two dishes alongside the box spring. He noted that Itachi still smelled of sweat: sweet and intoxicating, it was a seductive scent all his own.

"You have time – Naruto isn't likely to move in this snow. _We_ have time."

His partner chuckled harshly. "Yes, I have plenty of time. Let's eat."

They ate in silence. As much as Kisame wanted to talk, the other seemed hesitant to disturb the morning quiet or tentative peace they had achieved. He, on the other hand, was sure that the ceasefire would not last much longer – it was better to get everything out in the open while they were both young. Or whatever he was.

That wasn't to say he knew what either wanted to discuss.

Finally, he spoke up. "Why are you so preoccupied with 'time'?"

Itachi's head snapped up, dark eyes staring, strong and probing, "My _time _is coming, Kisame. Sasuke's training and we're chasing his Kyuubi; did you think I could avoid him forever?"

"Haven't you been searching him out?! I can't guess at your secondary motives, Itachi-san."

I'm training him. Slowly but surely, from hundreds of miles away, I'm teaching him to despise me. His hate keeps him going: it fuels him."

The Uchiha practically glowed with pride. "He's my ultimate test."

The other's self-centered smirk burnt into Kisame's mind and sent him over the into what could only be called a frenzied rage. "Don't get so excited about this! If you intend to play these games, we can stop here. We can be casual, but don't jeopardize our mission."

"Casual? We slept together, Kisame! I don't do that casually. My decisions are my own, though. My thoughts are mine, as well. Just because we are lovers does not mean that I must share my entire world."

"Itachi-san, I didn't presume—"

"Sasuke is to be my greatest challenge, or my executioner."

This final, resolute statement was too much. No matter the harmony they were both trying to preserve, he couldn't continue to pretend everything was okay.

"Is this why you joined the Akatsuki?! To keep the chase alive?!"

"Kisame, it's not what you think! I know I sound like a cliché, but you don't understand."

"I don't, and neither do I want to know: you're sick, Itachi-san." He could feel the intense ache of the tears threatening to spill over, and were gathering in his eyes. "We need to get you help."

"S-Rank Criminals do not _need_ help. What we need is to catch the Kyuubi and go home."

"No! You need to think about what you're saying. There's something wrong with the way your mind works. You can't kill yourself for the sake of some confrontation!"

"Please, don't do this…"

The shark-nin was torn between his want to turn away, to deny what he was seeing himself, and his desire to comfort the transformed creature his partner had become. The eyes he had so often admired for their intensity and strength had turned pleading, importunate.

Instead, he gave in to the inexplicable urge to kiss away these thoughts.

The sex this time was desperate, nearly wild, in its intensity. Both were trying to cover their insecurities, their needs, as they unclothed their bodies.

_'I _need_ you by my side,' _Kisame attempted to show with a particularly needful thrust.

_'I _have_ to test my strength,' _Itachi communicated.

Time seemed so crucial, the years so short; much more tangible than any man-made illusion should feel. Kisame bore down on the man below. He nipped and suckled at the lips so freely up, stroked and favored skin willingly given. A certain, zealous bite drew blood and Itachi's body shot into the air in answer.

Again, through the mind-clouding sensations, he wished that he could shelter his partner from whatever demons haunted him from the darkness. Prayed that he could protect Itachi from himself.

The younger seemed so eager, almost impatient: Kisame had little time to prepare either of them for this next step. He coated his fingers, quickly, with saliva, not believing it was enough.

Not that it much mattered – Itachi's body language begged a swift resolution. He complied, prying deep into the Uchiha's body.

"K-kisame!" he cried as the first real shots of pain began lacing themselves up and down his back. It seemed to the said shark-nin that the ache must be unbearable, but to slow or stop entirely would only make it worse. He pressed on, his other hand moving in time with his right.

The frantic pave they had set did not allow either of the two any leisure, keeping them both from holding out for very long. As he came, Itachi rewarded his equally-distracted by moaning the name once again.

The perfectly formed word, pleasantly rounded at the edges by ever-present affection, forced him over the edge as well.

It wasn't until that moment that Kisame realized just how deeply he had fallen.

They lay in bliss until Itachi's breathing slowed to a sleeping tempo. The shark-nin stood to go and change – throughout their little "encounter," he had never even removed his pants.

With the slow and particularly agreeable wanderings of the post-coital mind, he asked himself when the very sound of the other's voice had begun to affect him so profoundly.

When he had re-dressed (in what few spare garments he carried along), and felt sufficiently clean, Kisame commenced tidying up the decrepit bedroom. He took great pains to be as silent as a shinobi could be.

It soon became apparent that his cautions were not needed. Using the damped leg of his previously worn pants, he toweled off the mess between the younger man's legs. The sheets themselves were a lost cause. The Uchiha did not so much as stir.

On the final trip in, Kisame gathered up the bowls. The lack of response from the other was slightly worrying, but even that sentiment was wasted. Itachi reaffirmed his status of alive by grunting softly in his sleep.

His partner spared the leaf-nin a withering, yet fond, glance.

Forget everything else— who was Kisame trying to kid? This man, his lover, was too far embedded into his life and being to be forcibly removed.

"Maybe we should take the day off," he suggested mildly. With the utmost gentleness, he placed a chaste kiss amid raven hair.

Quietly, he left the room and slid the door shut behind.

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A/N: So, I'm afraid to write anything about them being OOC, as every time I do, someone agrees with me. O.O It's probably true, tho... 

Anyway, I was surprised with the amount of reviews I got! It wasn't exactly a flood, but it definitely wasn't a trickle. It makes me reeeaaally happy, and more likely to write more. -hinthintpokepoke- 8D

Thanks again, everyone!!


	4. To Live Here

Disclaimer: Don't own them, never will. But I do own the plushies! 

**Nothingness  
**Chpt. 3 - To Live Here

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It had only been their second time together, but already Kisame knew that there would be no pillow talk; no sweet words or tender phrases were to pass Itachi's reddened, slightly swollen lips. But such things didn't seem to matter any more – the Uchiha's body had told him everything he needed to know.

This was right, at least for now.

Now that they had the day off, Kisame decided to be productive. He moved outside and began clearing away the slush surrounding their temporary shelter. Using the few logs still dry after yesterday's onslaught of harsh weather, he built up a small fire.

The skies at the moment, though, were crisp and clear, and the shark-nin felt the corners of his soul lifted towards them. The day was perfect, he had time to replenish their supplies and last, but surely not least, he was beginning to feel younger by the hour. Love was truly invigorating.

Kisame had seen a spring nearby, on the wayside of some small path – hopefully, if it was warm enough to keep the snow melted, the sun had kept the water from icing over.

Normally, he would have used a water jutsu to get what they needed, but the atmosphere was just too perfect to waste. Besides, he reasoned, Itachi-san would be grateful that this had come from some tangible place, not from some summons inside of his partner.

He stood, his back straightening with an audible _pop._ Checking to make sure that the bonfire was not giving off too much smoke, Kisame took off towards the creek. It was great that he would be able to do the laundry today.

About halfway through the sparse forest, a black shape ghosted through the threadbare boughs above him. Kisame's head snapped up, surveying the world around.

"What was that?" he muttered questioningly.

For some odd reason, a curtain of foreboding dropped onto him. Could that blur have been Sasuke?

He dismissed the notion easily. It was Itachi's odd countenance rubbing off on him, his paranoia becoming contagious, nothing more. Still, Kisame kept his guard up.

When he finally found the tiny creek, he knelt down to fetch a bit of water. Luckily, there had been an old bucket behind the abandoned cottage, and he was using it to fetch the spring water;he could boil it back at their "campground."

Happily, he had traded his sword for the metal pail, leaning Sameheda against the aging wall.

* * *

The water was brisk, and chilled his fingers to the bone: an almost penetrating cold. It was exhilarating, and he picked his way back through the woods with renewed energy.

As yet another testament to his growing disgust with fighting (and growing obsession with the settled life) he plucked a few clusters of pine needles from the surrounding trees.

Back at the fire site, he poured the water into the laundry pot and waited for it to heat. The leaves he had grabbed left a heavy, yet not unpleasant, scent in the air; one that Kisame hoped would linger in the cleaned clothes.

The smell was familiar, nostalgic. His mother – may she rest in peace – had taught him the trick, always wanting her son to be a neat little boy. The rogue shark-nin could recall many hours spent beneath the stone wash basin just outside his home.

Her hands, soft with the wet of the laundry, would hold his face to her chest, whispering words of comfort.

_"Mommy, what's wrong?"_

_"Nothing, Kisame. Just remember that your mother loves you – she always will."_

_Then, they sat there and watched the washing water boil, then evaporate into the early air._

His father had killed her not long afterwards. He, in turn, murdered the drunk in revenge. That, Kisame supposed, was the root of his old history. He could blame that man for his defection from the village, the multiple murders he had committed later on in life. 

But that would only have shamed his mother's memory.

While his memory was in the mood to wander, Kisame pulled it further into the future and let it roam freely. Handling the garments again, he reflected on the two events that had left the stains imbedded in his.

Every feeling, every heady fragrance and emotion found itself coursing through his veins once more, blood singing in his temples. It was almost enough to make him come again. Humorously, Kisame wondered why the afterglow had taken so long to set in.

As the water bubbled, its gurgling joining the soft orchestra of morning sounds, he tossed the pine bunch into it. He watched as the green spines spun in lazy, clockwise circles. A breeze wafted through the hills, whistling loudly, yet singing softly all at once. It was all far beyond comforting.

Would it be such a bad idea to start a home here? To live here?

Kisame could see the small cottage repaired – it was humble but practical – the children he had fathered playing happily in the new spring grass. If that was Itachi standing in the front threshold, for all that, where had they come from?

The Uchiha certainly could not bear them. Unless… A transformation jutsu?

It didn't really matter. The shark-nin felt rather than imagined his future self pull that breathtaking man into his arms, and place a still-passionate kiss on those still-welcoming lips.

As embarrassed as Itachi _looked _at the open display of affection, Kisame could tell he was pleased.

If his desertion from Akatsuki didn't kill him, he decided, this would be their life. He would live for his partner, their future children, and their probable, new home.

The shark-nin barely even registered how easily his anxiety had fled. 

Thusly entertained, Kisame gathered the clean, sopping wet cloaks and brought them inside. The wind that had frolicked outside now rustled the torn screen that hung bleakly from many of the window frames. He hung their coats between the most of the gale and the tiny fire inside. The current would dry them well, and they would keep the flames from guttering out.

Around the side of the house, he could hear the unmistakable ring of target practice. Itachi was up and running, then. As the hours dragged on, and he surveyed the surrounding forest, the ring changed to a hum – practice morphing into the steady grind of a sharpening blade. 

The sounds, much like his suspicions, trailed him late into the afternoon.

Kisame spent the remaining daylight finding and completing small chores about their chosen hideaway. He smoked and preserved the last of their venison, (a gift from a rather large deer he had taken down three days ago) and repaired a small rip in his still-damp cloak. 

As an added precaution for their dwindling food supply, the shark-nin searched out a few wild fowl eggs to eat later.

It surprised him that, once again, Itachi had returned to bed after a scant two hours of training. Kisame's biggest concern was that perhaps his energy was fading, his interest in living close behind. After all, hadn't the Uchiha questioned the fate of the clan he had maliciously dispatched?

A little extra protein had never killed a man, he reasoned, and threw about half the pheasant eggs he had collected into the waiting pan over the flames. They sizzled satisfactorily, taking on an omelet-like consistency as they mixed with the fried rice.

With the extra downtime, the shark-nin picked up the trail of thought he had been following earlier. What kind of family life could he have if one partner were dead? 

Surely, Itachi-san was not the most trustworthy when it came to the family dynamic, but Kisame held a sick kind of faith in the man. Who could kill their own children?

For the second time that day, he thought of his father; his appetite fled in a hurry.

When everything was finished frying, he stood to find his partner – only to discover the object of his scrutiny standing in the hallway. "Itachi-san. Finally awake?" 

"Dinner smells good, Kisame. Are those fresh eggs?"

The small talk was irritating, but Kisame figured that it was the best way to coax the other man out of his self-induced hermitage. "Yup, I found a nest a little ways from here. There's a few more if you'd like them made differently.

"It doesn't really matter to me." A short pause, then, "I had the strangest dream after you left this morning."

Well this was new. "What about, Itachi-san?"

"My brother. He was so close to me, Kisame. I could feel his hands about my throat." His eyes betrayed the simple alarm the Uchiha must have felt inside. "And would you believe what he told me? 'You will _not _survive, Itachi, not even in an unsightly way.' It was… so _real_."

"Itachi-san…" Some of that alarm had drifted across the room, and caught the shark-nin in its deadly snare. Could he lose his partner even now?

"At least you do not lack hatred."

His inappropriate attempt at levity worked. A rare smile tugged at Itachi's lips, pulling them upwards at the corners. The levity interspersed with the air, the atmosphere became noticeably lighter.

The Uchiha gratefully took the fried rice he was offered, sitting cross-legged on the floor. They spent the meal in relative gaiety: Kisame dictating little accounts from his day and light-hearted stories, Itachi listening in silence. Both gathered around the efficient, yet little heat of the cooking fire.

Their conversations were steady, – _normal_ – only ever interrupted by the rustle of a branch in the night, a light-hearted comment from his partner, or a recherché chuckle. 

When the dinner was finished and the equipment packed away, both agreed it was a good idea to retire for the night. Kisame prepared for another night spent in the dim parlor, setting down his pack as a makeshift sleeping mat.

"Kisame, join me tonight?"

Caught off-guard, the shark-nin spun rapidly on his heels. "You mean now?"

"Yes, tonight. I believe it will get a bit too chilly for me." This mischievous glint in his eyes made Kisame's blood rush to his face… and elsewhere. His morning anxiety was still fresh in his mind, the embarrassment still tingling just below the surface.

One eye was obscured by a coy wink, and Itachi turned away, allowing his cloak to drape seductively off one shoulder. "I'll see you inside."

He shook his head, but followed Itachi into the bedroom anyway. He found the other splayed across the bed, legs parted, waiting. It was a tempting sight, but Kisame forced himself to look away. This behavior he _wouldn't _tolerate.

"This isn't like you, Itachi-san." The Uchiha glanced up. "You're not a cheap whore."

"I didn't know you could consider anyone that, Kisame."

"Enough with that fake surprise. I can if you're going to look like that." He nodded at the display. "Move over."

Slightly ashamed, Itachi obliged, sliding to one side of the cot. Yet, as soon as he lay down beside the Uchiha, joining him for the night, he rolled on top, his fingers pulling harshly on the hidden buttons of the shark-nin's clothing.

Kisame felt the rip he had just repaired tear, and his patience with it. He was angry; he cared for this man, deeply, but his lover seemed much too eager to exploit the physical aspect of their relationship. 

It was, however, impossible to deny how arousing the situation was.

He tried valiantly anyway. "Please, could we just sleep now?" 

"You're sure you don't want me to take care of you? In that regard?" 

Kisame silently cursed his body's unnecessary (and unwanted) reactions to his partner. "I don't feel like it, Itachi-san." 

Reluctantly, the Uchiha spun off, giving him an incredulous look as he surrendered for good. He covered his naked body with a corner of the tattered rag of a blanket.

"I just… I just feel like I'm running out of time. I want to be _here, _Kisame. In the now."

Right then, Hoshigake Kisame felt something deep within him shatter; the feeling of foreboding, of helplessness returned in full force. Again, Itachi's slight frame – quivering muscle and pulsing flesh – desperately fought to get some message across. 

The unconscious communication was preparing shark-nin for the inevitable end, and it scared him shitless. Still, it would explain the desperate love-making, the contemplation, the extra sleep…

"Don't leave me now."

"Leave you? Am I really even with you?"

It was all happening too abruptly, the emotions hitting him too fast. Kisame let his hands come up to his lover's face, let his fingers rover across the soft and supple skin of the young face. He placed a gentle kiss on exposed lips, gradually deepening it until he was fully exploring the mouth with a ready tongue.

He pulled back for air and considered the man before him. "You _seem_ like you're here."

Quiet laughter filled room's silence." I should have known," he sighed. After a moment of careful contemplation, "I can trust you." 

Guilt washed over the other man. He wasn't sure why, but Kisame felt his mouth open to answer the unasked. "I haven't been completely honest."

"What do you mean, Kisame?"

"This morning," he paused again, carefully weighing the consequences of what he was going to say. "This morning I saw something above me in the woods."

He studied his partner's expression – this was much more difficult to do than he had first imagined.

"I don't know why, Itachi-san, but I was sure it was Sasuke."

The expression contorted, slowly but surely; disbelief, shock, anger… "I- I'm sorry I didn't tell you." 

"What! You kept this from me!"

"I know, I was wrong, but—"

"You're damn right you were! My brother!" Itachi tore out of bed, dressing quickly. All the relatively romantic moods had fled, following his lover as he readied his weapons and left the room. "I'm going to find him. I'm going to defeat him."

Kisame managed to pull himself up and trail him to the cottage's front door. The Uchiha turned and gave him one final, fleeting look filled with malice and distrust. 

His legs threatened to give. The shark-nin could only watch as he whipped around once more and disappeared into the night.

"Itachi-san!"

* * *

A/N: Posting this in honor of the fish-man's birthday. XD There was a rush to get this posted! Thanks to everyone who reviewed! Wonder if anyone knows where this is heading... Okay, I leave you all with the typical wish that you review, and the update thatI will be working on the new chapter of my KakuHida fic. 


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